*A comet streaks across the sky and crashes into a forest in Transylvania; as you approach, you see this inscription written on the bear's carcass where the blade has embedded itself.* "Whoever wields this sword shall possess the powers of Ares; behold the hope-breaked. Currently, this blade lies within the forests of Transylvania—will you be the bearer of such a sinister and dark power?"
*Italy, 6:54 PM; the city of Venice was asleep after a long, anxious day. Since the fall of Greece, travel had become increasingly restricted; consequently, the importation of Greek goods had ceased, leaving countless people deprived of products once highly prized. Yet, while the country slumbered, an apparition emerged from the depths of the sea—a gh0l, distinct from those known from the Greek massacre, which had secretly hitched a ride on one of the boats. Moving with a sluggish gait—as if draped in a veil—the creature walked slowly toward the harbor until it simply stopped, floated ethereally, and vanished into the Alps. However, it was spotted by a young boy—an encounter that would later change his life...*
*You were at home (or wherever you live) doing absolutely nothing when you decided to turn on the TV and lazily flip through channels. One channel caught your eye because it was obvious that everything was genuinely being improvised: several masked men in black and mustard-yellow robes were running around a studio, followed by black blurs acting as the film crew. But if the masked men were striking, the host was even more so—he was towering (about 9 meters tall), wore a black suit with skull cufflinks, and sported... a Greco-Roman helmet?! Not only that, but his eyes were completely white, and he radiated an aura of rage and aggression as he waited for the masked men to bring him a chair and the script. When he sat down and started speaking, you realized who he was.*
"Well, since the majority voted "yes," in the spirit of democracy, we’re going to pause the infection arcs (having four infection arcs running simultaneously is a bit much anyway; so, as a breather from the NOSOI, Sculk, Palemind, and Brave New Gh0l World arcs, we’re doing this filler arc). I’m calling it the "Battle of the Cities" (inspired by *Yu-Gi-Oh!*). If you want to participate, just reply to this post, then make a separate post listing the Pokémon on your team (Fanon Pokémon are allowed, but your team can't consist entirely of them—at least not at the start; in the finals, you can use a full Fakemon team if you want). And, of course, I have to mention the rules."
First: you must have 7 Pokémon.
Second: Legendaries are banned (except for those with an evolutionary line or those that are part of generational gimmicks).
Third: no duplicate Pokémon (so no cheeky bastard shows up with a team full of Mewtwos, Urshifus, or other Legendaries trying to exploit the previous rule).
Fourth: each of the 5 main cities is limited to just one generational mechanic (to unlock the right to use a generation gimmick, you have to find the corresponding item somewhere in your city—it’ll be easy to find; I’m thinking of making it a statue of the Cartographer, a statue of me, or a gold pyramid, hehe).
Fifth: no gods allowed (except for me, of course; I’m the organizer and the boss of this whole damn thing, and I’m the one giving out the prize, so that perk is my right). And the final rule—number six: no killing, maiming, harming, or cursing your opponent (come on, I know I’m the God of Violence, the Master of War, the Destroyer of Worlds, and all that, but screwing over the guy who beat you in a competition is unfair—I might be a literal a demon in many people's lives, but I've never cheated in a competition—so if anyone on our team gets caught cheating, they'll be allowed to kill them.
"If you don't want to participate, just don't reply to this post; just don't spoil the fun for those who did accept."
"What else is missing? Oh, right—we need judges. Three of them. So, if you want to apply, just quarter a pigeon and perform a ritual (wait, what do you mean that's not allowed anymore? DAMN YOU, PETA!!! *Ares literally vomited fire From his mouth burning the script*). Okay... so just send an email to Arestruewarmaster@gmail.com (just pretend that's my profile name). That's it? Great. I'm out of here; I've got to read the Jeff Loeb run I stole from Superman Prime."
*Suddenly, a laser blast blows apart the back of the studio, revealing Superman Prime flying in—looking absolutely furious at Ares—and the recording cuts off.*
*BBC News: Christian Fraser appears looking haggard; after clearing his throat, he finally begins to speak.* "It is with great sorrow that I announce today the fall of the Greek government. The attacks by the infected proved too overwhelming to handle, resulting in the infection of the entire country. There are no longer any healthy Greek citizens—I repeat, there are no healthy Greek citizens. Furthermore, Greece is currently under containment; all travel to the country by any means is prohibited, with the death penalty applicable for any violation of this decree. Let us only pray that they manage... that they manage to put an end to this infection. I am Christian Fraser, and this broadcast has concluded." *The broadcast ended after the transmission.*
*Meanwhile, in the Fortress of Darkness, Ares pondered recent events; thanks to the Earl of Greed, Pokémon had been unleashed upon the world. Ares considered whether or not to use these creatures to arm his armies—after all, there were historical records of Pokémon being used in warfare, and certain evolutionary lines had even emerged because of it, such as Aegislash, Onix, Steelix, Pikachu, Raichu, and Voltorb, among many others. Unconsciously, he summoned a Shaymin into the hand encased in his Lightning Claw; the hedgehog Pokémon’s greenish form weighed next to nothing against his divine might, yet he hesitated. Even so, his fighting spirit remained undiminished; seeking to sate that urge, he hit upon a curious idea: to host a Pokémon tournament. He dispatched a hideous vulture carrying a hastily scrawled message—"Pokémon Tournament"—and waited.*
*greece,5:16 AM,this transmission is sent to all the Greek TVS still avaliable.*
"Hello everyone, we are Projecto, the organization currently tasked with protecting Greece from the gh0l threat. Today, we are bringing you an update to the survival guide for interacting with the infected."
Sky-Piercer: "This is the latest variant of the infected. Endowed with bat-like wings and lamprey-like jaws on their left arm, these variants can fly at speeds exceeding that of lightning, tearing through the sound barrier as if it didn't exist; they appear completely immune to the laws of aerodynamics and inertia. Our scientists theorize that they are connected to the Speed Force. Another of their abilities is emitting screams that shatter any metal in the vicinity—which also serve as a form of echolocation—and they can drain matter through the tentacle on their arm, with no known limit. One weakness discovered so far is that they can be manipulated using birdseed, though this is still in the testing phase."
Wizarshroud: "This variant is even more recent; all that is known about it is that it has the ability to speak, can fly, and attacks using sonic screams and a blood-like substance (update: it is blood boiled at 8¹⁰⁰⁰ degrees). Its appearance at the Parthenon remains a tragedy due to the casualties it caused."
???:{{drafted content}}
"And that's all citizens,Հիշի՛ր՝ հիմարությունը արյուն է արժենում..." *And then the transmission ends*
*BBC channel, 7:10 PM; presenter Christian Fraser enters and takes his seat.*
"Testing, testing—one, two. Ready? Right."
*He straightens the script in his hand and begins to speak.*
"Good evening, everyone. I’m Christian Fraser, bringing you the latest from BBC News. The story I’m about to report is tragic, yet necessary: Greece has just entered a total quarantine following the appearance of a species of beings known as 'Gh0ls.' The Greek government and the organization known as 'The Projecto' are currently engaging the infected, and our team has obtained footage of the conflict. Webber, roll the tape."
*Suddenly, the large screen shifts from the BBC News logo to a recording showing several Greek soldiers confronting what looks like a toothy shroud; it attacks the soldiers with a fluid the color of fresh blood, slaughtering them effortlessly—until, out of nowhere, the creature turns what serves as its face (just a large, empty void with teeth on It's sides) toward the camera and attacks the helicopter, bringing it down and cutting the feed.*
"A tragic event, certainly, but one that has alerted us to the presence of this problem. Measures will be taken—starting right now. BBC News is wrapping up early today so that our valued staff can take some time off; working hours are being reduced for the day. That is all."
*The broadcast ends.*
Origin story: Virshinorex was born in the province of Hargan on the continent of Luminus and was always an outlier. His mother, Olshanex, had allegedly been violated in the past by an entity known as the Bearer of Forgotten Mornings; consequently, she was executed, and Virshinorex was cast into the Causeco to fight as a gladiator. Fortunately, he was rescued by a great wizard known as Garlegan the Retarded (a name earned through his extreme eccentricity). Garlegan taught Vishinorex the magical arts; thanks to his superhuman potential, Virshinorex quickly mastered every existing spell. Yet, not even supreme magical power could alter his desire to uncover his own history. After years of searching, he finally encountered the Bearer of Forgotten Mornings, who revealed the truth: his mother had never been executed or violated. To save her since she was his lover,the Bearer had done the unthinkable, fusing his divine body with Olshanex's mortal essence. This revelation would have been welcome news—had Vishinorex not already destroyed the continent of Luminus during a vengeful crusade sparked by his mother's alleged execution. Thus, as an act of penance, he used a spell to exile himself from his universe, eventually arriving at the Hub.
((OOC:Before you ask, yes, Virshinorex is my OC.))
((OOC:First figure: Virshinorex currently))
Second figure: Virshinorex in his wizard robes
Third figure: Virshinorex's Unrestrained Form (he can only transform into this state once a month; otherwise, the strain of such immense magic would kill him and devastate the entire cosmos))
((OOC:The nickname "Grimderp" stems from Virshinorex’s regret over his most foolish mistake; he chose to mask that regret with a joke to avoid feeling quite so bad—and to belittle himself for having once believed he was on a glorious mission to avenge his mother's supposed death, when in reality, she was alive and well.))
*Deciding to help the P.C.A., Superman Prime resolved to confront the Sculks; he took flight and began his search. After some time, he arrived in Uzbekistan, where a Sculk invasion was underway. He landed and engaged in battle; after many hours—as there were quite a lot of Sculks—he finally purged the plague from the country and flew off at the speed of light.*
*Meanwhile, in Russia, a news channel broadcasts the following report:*
"Good evening, I am Khisalmir Garikhov, here with today's news. Greece remains under quarantine following the sighting of the so-called 'Gh0ls,' and the organization known as 'Projecto' is currently attempting containment. The purpose of this report is to teach everyone how to identify potential the infected based on symptoms. The first is a loss of skin pigmentation, followed by skin that becomes increasingly flaccid and prone to tearing, taking on the texture of a handkerchief soaked in mucus. Another symptom is an odor of cooked meat emanating from the person; additionally, animals begin to avoid them, and a black substance seeps from their pores (though it is worth noting that this last symptom is not universal). However, the most prominent symptom of all is heightened senses—specifically the sense of smell. The infected possess an olfactory sense of superhuman efficiency, capable of detecting scents that do not even exist and picking up odors with greater sensitivity than trained dogs. If someone in your inner circle displays these symptoms, you must prevent them from becoming angry; do whatever it takes to keep them happy, or the infection will worsen at an alarming rate. I would also like to mention that, by decree of President Vladimir Putin, the workday has been reduced from 18 hours to 15, and all citizens will receive a pay raise and discounts at all stores. Conversely, no individual is permitted to leave their home or lodging after 11:00 PM. Russian intelligence has spotted a new variant of the infected flying near the Kremlin—a variant we are calling the 'Sky-Piercer.' Little is known about this variant other than its ability to fly; standard protocols should be followed until further differences are observed. I am Khisalmir Garikhov, and this broadcast is concluded..."
*The broadcast ended, returning to regular programming; however, the sense of uncertainty it left behind was like a bucket of cold water, even despite the presenter's reassuring words.*
*Meanwhile at greece,the Greek government send this transmission through all the available TVS.*
"Greetings, Greek citizens. We are Projecto, an organization founded at the President's behest to protect you from the invasion. As you know, many months ago, these entities emerged from the city of Sparta; we call them "Gh0ls." They appear to originate from areas where acts of extreme violence or catastrophic errors occurred in the past. We have invented a method to identify these locations: the Gennom. This device detects the level of "wrath energy" in an area; if it displays a reading higher than 5, leave the location immediately. Should you encounter an infected individual, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO FIGHT! I repeat: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO FIGHT! These beings show no weaknesses to anything—except for the heat vision of the hero Superboy-Prime and the mention of happy moments. If you encounter an infected individual, start singing with the utmost happiness you can muster,Otherwise, you will become infected. Another way to avoid encountering the infected is to keep the "joy level" of your current location very high; if you don't, there is a strong chance an infected entity will simply materialize right where you are. Do not try to flee; they can smell your emotions as if they were something delicious, and they can teleport to any location with extreme concentrations of feelings—such as anger, hatred, spite, envy, greed, resentment, or fear, among others. Currently, there are 4 known types of infected."
Glorgas: By far the most basic type of infected, they are obese, gelatinous masses of flesh that move using their extremely stretched, flabby tounges as tentacles. Their attack involves vomiting a green substance known as "Extrapentesimal Oil"; this compound is incredibly sticky—stickier even than tar—and instantly solidifies upon contact with skin, trapping the victim in a green cocoon. To avoid this, wear clothing made of leather or polyester, as these fabrics are, for some reason, impervious to the slime.
Maraudians: These are stronger infected beings; they possess tentacles capable of crushing adamantium, superhuman strength, enhanced speed, extraordinary senses, and the ability to breathe fire. It is worth noting that they retain full intelligence and perfectly remember who they were before infection; however, do not attempt to interact with them, for despite their memories, they no longer possess any moral inhibitions and are driven solely by hatred toward all living things.
Haters: These are even more powerful infected beings. They possess all the traits of Marauders, plus the abilities to shapeshift, steal voices, and possess others. Unlike Marauders, however, they have completely lost their sense of self and are guided by a hive mind whose sole purpose and instinct is to kill. They possess supernatural immunity to pain, yet—unlike Marauders—Greek fire appears to affect them and negate their regeneration.
Bilíros: these infected creatures emerge when an animal—regardless of the species—becomes infected. Their bodies are altered to take on a more feline structure to maximize hunting efficiency; unlike other infected types, they do not kill merely for the sake of killing, but rather out of a maddening hunger that drives them to attack anything that fits within their jaws. They are also easier to handle than other infected variants, as they retain many of their original instincts—as demonstrated by examinations of Bilíros that were formerly dogs, which responded to commands from their original owners.
"We at the Projecto headquarters wish everyone a good night's sleep. Ҳаблақәа еснагь иԥшуеит..." *The broadcast then ended.*
*This moment follows Esaius—the Earl of Greed—who had previously been on Kamino with Lord Conquest, attempting to enslave the planet; however, he had been struck by a hyperdrive engine explosion that teleported him to another world. After many minutes or hours (he was still too dazed to recall exactly), he finally stood up, opened his eyes, and straightened his armor.*
"Damn it... Lord Ares is going to kill me. At least I'll conquer this little world for myself; I hope there's something of value here, heh heh."
*But Esaius didn't have time to finish his thought, as a sound caught his attention—a name... what was it? Ze... Ze... Zekrom—that was it! Suddenly, a black, draconic being about 2.9 meters tall emerged from the foliage, fixing its reddish eyes on Esaius; it didn't exactly approach, but stood its ground.* "By Mars! What a magnificent beast; it will be a prized addition to my collection. FREEZE!"
*He raised his hand toward Zekrom, freezing it within a stasis field. He then approached the Pokémon, lifted it into his arms using his undead strength, and opened a green portal with his free hand (holding Zekrom with his left). He stepped through the portal, returning to the realms of Ares; however, due to a moment of carelessness, the portal was left open, allowing others to enter.*
((Pokémon Unleashed))
"For anyone wanting to travel to Barbaritá Town, here is a guide to the tourist spots. First up—and the most famous local landmark—is Cinema 774; don't let its empty appearance fool you, as they screen the world's best movies here. Just be careful not to sit in seat 333; its owner doesn't take kindly to that sort of rudeness... Next, we have Hotel Incêndio—relax, the fire here is just for show!!!!!!!!!!! Unfortunately, the previous tour guide died, so I—Argo Tel—will be taking over the tour. Moving on, we have Suffring Gym; it’s a bit dirty, but you can still get a killer workout in. Our next stop is... uh... the hjejjskmw School? That’s where Eris lives, so it’s impossible to know the actual name (what a confusing woman). Anyway, you must be hungry, right? Let’s head to the Red Restaurant; they serve the best meat in the entire region—strictly meat, and don't ask where it comes from... Don't want meat? Well, then let's pass through Annihilation Square—but grab your bulletproof vests first, because the shootouts here get nasty!!! And finally, we have the Skull Lounge; it’s the swankiest spot in the area, and entry is restricted to those with a "Blank Check" pass. That’s all, folks!"
*Meanwhile, on the planet Kogher, an Astra Militarum regiment was fighting an army of cultists in a battle that had already dragged on for eight months. They were drawing ever closer to victory, but would that actually be a good thing? When the cultists finally fell, something that would change the world forever was destined to be unleashed—but let us save that revelation for later; the focus now shifts to two soldiers, Najira Houl and Sverin Boreas.*
Najira:"We won... for the God-Emperor and His Golden Throne on Terra—what wretched heretics!"
*Najira spoke through tears of rage, tearing off her helmet haphazardly and tossing it aside, while Sverin went to retrieve it and tried to put it back on her head as they walked along.*
Sverin:"Yeah... those shitty heretics even managed to wipe out the Silver Skulls Chapter. I never thought I’d live to see an entire Astartes Chapter exterminated; times really are changing, aren't they?"
*Najira finally put her helmet back on, though she still made an unrefined clicking sound with her mouth as she surveyed the battlefield and walked with her husband.*
Najira:"Don't get me started. Can you believe that when I was reassigned to the planet Zerastis, I actually ran into Astartes from the Alpha Legion?"
*Sverin’s eyes widened—not exactly in shock, but intrigued enough to pause and reflect for a moment.*
Sverin:"Alpha Legion? Isn't that the legion of schizophrenic Adeptus Astartes? Ouch!"
*He took a punch to the shoulder from his wife; it wasn't a massive blow, but Najira was never exactly weak.*
Najira:"Show some respect! They are the Emperor's Angels and deserve adoration!"
Sverin:"Ouch! I don't get why you're such a fanatic—seriously, if you were just a little taller, you'd be a Sororita."
*She suddenly shouted in a comical, anime-style manner while softly swatting at Sverin*
Sverin:"Hey! Hey! Hey! I was just kidding! Sorry!"
*She stopped after three minutes and looked away, blushing*
Sverin:"Wow, if you keep blushing like that, you might need a medicae, hehehe."
Najira:"S-stop it!"
Sverin:"Alright, I'll stop—but only for now."
*Then Sverin and Najira resumed walking, accompanying the surviving members of their regiment, until a scream from the depths of hell brought the entire planet to a standstill; the cultists' corpses began to glow and disintegrate until, after a moment when it seemed the universe itself was about to crack in two... he... *that thing* emerged... Emerging from the light that had sprung from the heretics' corpses came... a man? Taller than an Astartes and far more terrifying, he wore dark blue armor and possessed blue skin (or perhaps gray—no one could say for sure). He wore a horned helmet, his face a black void—invisible save for his mouth and eyes; the latter glowed a brilliant red, devoid of any iris or pupil. The mere sight of him inflicted hallucinatory visions of war upon everyone present—a maddening experience for any man, though not, of course, for the brave souls of the Astra Militarum. It took an indeterminate amount of time before the regimental commander—a man named Waursch Bergën—stepped forward to speak:*
Waursch:"You aren't exactly what one would expect; what kind of Warp-beast are you?"
*Five minutes passed before the mysterious man finally spoke. His voice produced an effect akin to the roar of a beast poised to strike—a sound so harrowing that it drove some members of the regiment to take their own lives.*
Ares:**"No... I have no connection to the Warp; I am something far beyond that. I am the Warmast—"**
Waursch:"But that title already belongs to Horus Lupercal."
*The interruption caused the Man to glare at Waursch with a look so furious it could kill.*
Ares:**"Silence, insect! But as I was saying: I am the original Warmaster. Horus is nothing more than a thief. I am called Ares."**
*For some reason, the name evoked feelings that had not been experienced in forty thousand years.*
Ares:**"And I have come to this pathetic little world because I learned of the existence of a prodigious STC of the armor model Scharavati"**
*Waursch spoke again, Trying to sound carefree but sounding more Haunted than anyone Else could be in this situation,fumbling with his hands and sweating so badly that he appeared to have aged 80 years in one second before he answered.*
Waursch:"S-STC? I wish our little planet had that honor A-ares sir,s-sir Ares—though I’m sure those technophilic priests from Mars would just snatch it from us and clutter the place up with junked-out versions, hehehe."
*It is hard to Joke about not having an item when you are literally wearing It,Even that would be infuriating to every Other Dark Lord villain,but not for Ares surprisingly,he got Far more patient since he got so successful in his store and managed to claim Europe so he Just chuffed and said this with an surprisingly tame tone.*
Ares:**"A rather respectable attempt; I hope the Emperor remembers you."**
*Ares spoke as he decapitated Waursch in a single, fluid motion—a strike so swift it appeared instantaneous to the human eye. He wiped his arm with a small blue handkerchief before conjuring a sword and charging at the entire army. Laughter and screams tore through the air as Ares slaughtered the regiment, which fought desperately while the battle ravaged the planet's surface; tanks were crushed and sliced apart like wet Styrofoam, and nothing seemed capable of halting the advance of this furious god. In the end, only Najira remained. Screaming and weeping blood, she lunged at Ares, attacking with a broken chainsword; Ares, however, effortlessly dodged every strike, swatting the blows aside as if they were mere mosquitoes. Eventually, she grew exhausted and fell to her knees as Ares drove his Lightning Claw into her stomach.*
Ares:**"Shhh... it’ll pass. You fought quite well, Najira Houl; you managed to captivate me—few have ever done that. I hope the Emperor of Men remembers you, though knowing that golden bum, he most likely won't. Well, if he won't remember, I will."**
*Ares then split Najira open as easily as snapping a strand of spaghetti; using his powers, he vacuum-extracted all her blood and concentrated it into a red sphere. Pointing his hand at the corpse, he crystallized her into a blood-red crystal statue.*
Ares:**"hehehe,i am really an artist,i don't understand why people never liked me,well time to leave here,a shame,It seemed a neaty place.**
*Ares then flew up into the sky and raised his hand, unleashing a blast powerful enough to incinerate the planet's entire surface and destroy the surrounding ring; he then teleported a tablet from the ruins of what had once been the planet's palace.*
Ares: "So this is the STC UH? It doesn't seem quite appealing but Whatever,i shall use it well,bye Kogher,May the imperium weep Your sacrifice for long."
*Then summoning an portal,he disappeared in leaving the broken planet behind and taking the STC With him*
*These events follow Lord Conquest and the Earl of Greed.* It was never truly easy to follow Ares; the god's demands—like his hunger—were so endless that they often defied mortal comprehension, a lesson both the Earl of Greed and Lord Conquest would learn firsthand. Currently, they find themselves on the planet Kamino (yes, the very same one from the clone saga). Ares had ordered the planet's capture and the enslavement of its scientists so that their biogenetic secrets could be absorbed into Ares's ranks—a task that turned out to be... grueling.*
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" *Well, that’s the Earl of Greed for you.*
"I CAN'T STAND THIS CRAP ANYMORE!!!!!! THIS WHOLE SIEGE WAR IS COSTING US MONTHS! I COULD BE AMASSING SO MANY VALUABLES!"
"Stop whining, Esaius; this is the mission Ares gave us, and we must execute it to perfect—oh, shut your mouth, you shitty sycophant. You're only saying that because Lord Ares gave *you* the command; otherwise, you'd be sitting there fantasizing about the good old days."
"SILENCE, YOU FAT UNDEAD BASTARD!!! AT LEAST, UNLIKE YOU, I AM TRULY SINCERE IN MY ADORATION."
"Yeah, right. We both know Ares couldn't give a shit about adoration when it comes to his servants—or have you forgotten about Sarpedon and the strawberry cake?"
"Fuck, don't remind me about the strawberry cake incident..."
"Exactly. I'm telling you, Ares doesn't care about our adoration, so sincerity is key; at least if we fail, the punishment won't be quite as severe."
*said the Earl as he sat down on a bronze chair; the chair instantly buckled, and he sprawled onto the floor and quickly getting up clumsily.*
"Even so, I... ah... I never really accepted that idea... ever since I was a demon in Hell, this craving for adoration has been part of my mind—like a primal instinct that never faded, like an ancient dread that—'
*Lord Conquest is suddenly slapped across the face by the Earl of Greed*
"Seriously, you need to learn to value yourself, man. You’ve been like this ever since Lord Ares introduced that Saramel Varko guy; it’s eating you up more than any poison—and mind you, I’m a pro poisoner. Lord Ares might not show it, but like it or not, he cares. If he didn't, he would’ve killed us ages ago. So, let’s put these sissy thoughts aside and make the Master of War proud—what do you say?' *Lord Conquest stared (or didn't stare—even he doesn't know if he can actually see) at the Earl in stunned silence, then spoke in a voice thick with emotion and a nasal twang (ironic, since he doesn't have a nose.)*
"You know, Esai, for millennia I thought you were just a fat, petty, and cowardly undead."
"Well, it’s not like that description isn't accurate, but anyway—I’m with you, partner."
*Suddenly, an Arean enters the room.* "Uh, Lord Conquest and Earl... we’ve managed to infiltrate one of those 'Palmito' guys' labs." *Lord Conqueror and the Earl of Greed exchanged glances.* "Well, there's no other way—TO WAR!" *And the two of them set off to confront the Kaminoans.*
*Lei Heng's approach, however well-intentioned, proved... flawed. Yes, he defeated the Ghouls, but the problem was that the infection wasn't going to stop just because some mad dude went around hacking down the infected like it was a hack-and-slash game. The virus proved capable of airborne transmission; after just a few minutes of exposure, it had infected half the male population of Greece, turning them into grotesque, mutated monstrosities of flesh. Next time you decide to help out, Lei Heng, maybe it's better you do nothing right?*
Given the previous success of the shop, Ares decided to open a new branch in a different part of Greece—specifically, Thessaly. With a snap of his fingers, he conjured up a new store. Meanwhile, the dashing and stylish chimpanzee in charge—better known as Chico Anzé—decided to ask his boss for permission to send a telepathic message. Here are the words of that remarkable fellow:
" 'i there mates, I’m Chico Anzé, manager of Ares’s lovely—and terrible—shop. I noticed a lot of folks were confused after the original store opened, so I decided to leave a guide. As you know, at ATGA (we’re still workshopping the acronym), we have our own currency: Gloresh and Dethkor coins. To get one, you need to place your hand (or whatever appendage you use to hold things) on the Judgment Analyzer and name two actions from your life. If the action was good, you earn a Gloresh coin; anything bought with it must be used purely for good—though, unlike with Dethkor, you actually get to choose what you buy. Dethkor, on the other hand, is the coin you earn for villainous acts; you don't get to choose what you receive in exchange, and whatever you get must be used for evil. You’re limited to submitting two actions—any more would put us at a disadvantage (and since our boss is a villain, he wants to keep things balanced for both sides)—and you can only submit new actions once a month (so nobody goes around abusing our products). I’d also like to mention that if you keep up a certain level of activity, you can earn special titles that grant you discounts and faster service when acquiring our products. I’m Chico Anzé, and that’s all for now."
Then, the shop doors swung open, inviting heroes, villains—and anti-heroes, too—from every corner of the Hub who were looking for a fresh opportunity.
For those wondering who Ares' original servants were, here is a presentation on them.
Phobos: God of Fear. He was one of Ares' first servants—if not the very first. Not that Ares cared much; his primary job is to instill fear in the souls of mortals. In the past, Ares tried using him against Wonder Woman, but he proved too cowardly and failed. He is known as the originator of the Yellow Lantern Corps; however, he never managed to join the ranks because, aside from being a coward, not even Parallax was interested in him.
Deimos: God of Terror. He is far more effective than his twin. His main job is to instill terror in mortal minds, and unlike Phobos, he never really failed—except against Wonder Woman, a defeat that always weighed heavily on him. Despite this, he is one of the few who has a good relationship with Ares, even receiving a pair of daggers from him.
Duke of Deception: Formerly Dolos. He was once just an ordinary liar who was elevated to a dukedom through a pact with Ares—a move that proved to be the greatest regret of his life. Due to his abysmal governing skills, he lost his duchy in a card game. Finding himself in debt to a god and ruined in the eyes of men, he sold himself to Ares, becoming his personal spy. One of his most notable feats was getting Lex Luthor elected president.
Eris: hhwjsjsjxjsjwjsjbxakqooqkosowksjznsnsjkwkakzksjsbshjsjznsjsksjsnsnsjwkwkoapsossnwkajsjjsjwkshdyehrnncoeoJbwjJqkj(kakjkakjqk)k)(1+(1)§k)0)#+!#(#(#!(#!#!#!!!$(2)10powjqjwiisijwjqgqtf (What? She is Discord; only Ares can understand and describe her.)
Earl of Greed: In the past, he was Esaius, a Roman consul. He dabbled too deeply in the occult and ended up becoming an immortal lich through Ares's power—a transformation he accepted with a certain degree of gratitude. Despite this, he acts primarily in his own self-interest and still believes he is not Ares's servant; yet, even he can no longer deny just how deeply immersed he has become in the god's influence.
Lord of Conquest: A former lesser demon, he made a pact with Ares to have his own master destroyed. After Ares fulfilled this, he became by far one of Ares's greatest generals and the god's original champion. Currently, however, their relationship is strained because he has come to envy Saramel Varko—Ares's current champion—and longs to one day regain his glory in his master's eyes.